


There goes my baby, He knows how to rock-n-roll

by PumpkinLily



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: (Freddie has sensitive nipples), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Smut, Songfic, Sort Of, froger - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:49:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22937398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinLily/pseuds/PumpkinLily
Summary: Damn, he’s hot. Roger would join his gang immediately if he was an actual biker.He twirls around gracefully. “So, how do I look?”That being said, he’d rather ride the biker than the motorbike. “Fucking hell.”Freddie chuckles, visibly satisfied of impression he made on his boyfriend. “Careful Rog, you’re drooling.”“I’d be upset if I wasn’t drooling. You’re smoking hot.” Roger says, his voice already a little raspy.
Relationships: Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor
Comments: 12
Kudos: 44





	There goes my baby, He knows how to rock-n-roll

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, I'd had this idea of "Freddie dresses like in the "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" video and Roger very much appreciates the sight" in my head for a while now. And so I finally wrote it. I hadn't thought simply writing Freddie and Roger enjoying a _very good time_ together would be this long, but hey :D
> 
> Have a good read!

Roger looks down. Tom and Jerry are curled up against him, peacefully purring. He gives a caress to both of them, and the two cats rub their heads on his hand. Adorable. He then looks at the plate clock with a kitten painted in the centre on the wall, and sighs. For once it’s not because he finds the thing awfully old-fashioned.

It’s not as if he didn’t appreciate petting Tom and Jerry. They’re lovely cats and all, but he didn’t come here for that. Freddie promised he would put on a little show, just for him. _“I’ve noticed the way you ogled at me that day, Roggie.”_ He didn’t tell him anything more, and in itself it was very vague considering how often Roger had troubles keeping his hands and eyes off him. The mystery remained absolute. One certain thing though was that the little show Freddie had in mind would end with a bonk – or at least it was ninety-nine percent certain, given their mutual love for sex. Another reason why he’s been awaiting this moment so much.

Unfortunately, it seems like his boyfriend was taking his sweet time to get dressed. Or, more probably, he was just behind the living room’s door, already clothed, a smile on his face, waiting for the right moment to make an entrance. He knows too well how to play hard to get.

But Roger’s patience is limited. Especially in situations involving anything related to sex with Freddie.

He lets out another sigh. He knows how much time the singer can spend in the bathroom, but there’s no way he’s not behind the door by now.

“Freddiiiiie.” He calls out loud.

“Geez, dear! Don’t you have any patience?”

So he was right, he was behind that fucking door, making him wait until he couldn’t handle it anymore. The bastard. “No. I want to see you. C’mon!”

“Alright, alright. You’re lucky I don’t have the wish to make you beg today, Rog.”

Roger smiles. _Finally._

He’s also glad not to have to beg. Freddie absolutely loves to make him beg – and he hates it, because it works.

The door opens, and a “peak hotness” alert blares in Roger’s head as his boyfriend steps inside the room, in all his splendour.

Aside from his T-shirt, he’s wearing the same becoming clothes he was wearing the day the clip for _Crazy Little Thing Called Love_ was shoot. The black policeman cap. The hot leather jacket. The deliciously tight pants that magnify his body, that make his legs and his bum look even lovelier.

 _Damn_ , he’s hot. Roger would join his gang immediately if he was an actual biker.

He twirls around gracefully. “So, how do I look?”

That being said, he’d rather ride the biker than the motorbike. “Fucking hell.”

Freddie chuckles, visibly satisfied of impression he made on his boyfriend. “Careful Rog, you’re drooling.”

“I’d be upset if I wasn’t drooling. You’re smoking hot.” Roger says, his voice already a little raspy.

Freddie sends him a kiss with his hand, before crossing the room to get to the couch, where the blonde is currently sitting. He stops right in front of him, hands holding his jacket, hips tilted to one side, and fixes his eyes, a very seductive smile on his face. Roger’s grin widens, a pleasant warmth running through his body.

Freddie with these clothes, right in front of him, no camera or indiscreet looks to prevent them from spending a nice moment together. He had literally dreamt of this. If only he leant a bit closer, it’d be so easy to grab his hips and make him slid on the couch, legs on each side of his thighs, get his hands under his shirt, caress his buttocks, grind against him, anything to make him moan and squirm in his lap-

“My eyes are up there darling.”

“Are they?” He asks, keeping his eyes on his crotch.

One of his hands moves forwards in the hope of touching his boyfriend, but he gives him a tap. “Hands off, you rabbit.”

He scoffs, and raises a brow. “That’s rich coming from someone who’s always up for a quickie.”

Freddie feigns innocence. “Now be quiet dear, and enjoy the show.”

He swirls around, and steps away from the couch until there’s around two meters and a half between him and Roger. No camera here, so he has to be closer to his public. He won’t be able to exactly replicate the video’s choreography, given the constraints of space and equipment, but he’s a master of improvisation, and he’s determined to make the two of them enjoy what is about to come as much as possible.

Besides, he knows his boyfriend already loves what he sees. And Roger is indeed satisfied. The short distance makes it better to admire him, the way light reflects on his pants and outlines the curve of his perfectly shaped bum.

Freddie grabs the cat brush, lying on a nearby piece of furniture. He hums the first notes of the song, then turns around sharply. He throws away the cap – it falls right between Roger’s hands – and starts singing, eyes fixed in his boyfriend’s, expression serious as if they were shooting the clip again.

_This thing called love,_   
_I just can't handle it,_   
_This thing called love,_   
_I must get round to it,_   
_I ain't ready,_

Roger isn’t ready either. Freddie’s ridiculously attractive right now, and the silly replacement for the mic can’t alter his charm. He has to sing louder, and there’s no instruments to accompany his voice, but it’s still a very enjoyable performance.

Crazy little thing called love…

The gel makes his dark hair shine a bit under the light. He slowly passes his fingers through it, and damn the gesture’s so hot. He turns around again – Roger’s eyes fall back on his lovely bum. He looks up at his boyfriend from behind his shoulder, torso lightly tilted towards him, his look deep and seductive. Roger feels desire building inside him.

 _This thing (this thing) called love (called love),_ He starts to sing the chorus.  
 _It cries (like a baby) in a cradle all night,_ Freddie faces him again, and steps towards him.  
 _It swings (ooh, ooh), it jives (ooh, ooh),_ He gives a faint smile, a flash of his teeth, before turning around.  
 _It shakes all over like a jelly fish,_ Fortunately unable to stay still, he moves his hips, his arms.  
 _I kinda like it,_ One last swirl, and he steps away with grace and rapidity.  
 _Crazy little thing called love…_

Enough. Roger leaps from the couch and warps his arms around Freddie, at the exact moment where the male dancers are supposed to drop him in the video. He flashes him a warm smile, and throws away the brush.

 _There goes my baby,_ He gives his boyfriend a caress on the cheek.  
 _He knows how to rock-n-roll,_ Roger smiles back, cupping his face with his hands.  
 _He drives me crazy,_ He leans closer and gives him a swift kiss.  
 _He gives me hot and cold fever,_ Freddie places his delicate hands on his hips.  
 _He leaves me in a cool, cool sweat…_ They share one tender look, then another kiss.

The kiss becomes more passionate as they stop moving around. Freddie still intends to sing the next verse, and so leans away from him, laying his arms on his shoulders. Eyes dark and mesmerising, smile ravishing. Roger wouldn’t wish to be anywhere else at the moment.

 _I gotta be cool, relax, get hip,_ Freddie takes his hand; the blonde takes one step away.  
 _Get on my tracks,_ He twirls and Freddie makes him fall back against his chest.  
 _Take a back seat, hitch-hike,_ They move around a bit, pressed against each other.  
 _And take a long ride on my motorbike,_ Roger’s free hand tries to find his hip; he’s losing his patience.  
 _Until I'm ready,_ Freddie places a kiss on his neck, and twirls him around.  
 _Crazy little thing called love…_

As soon as he finishes singing, warm and hungry lips collide with his mouth, and he feels a tongue searching for his’. Roger grips his hips, but his hands quickly slid to his bum and he presses the two of them close. The pressure of his erection against his crotch and the heat of his hands, his torso, sends blood rushing down Freddie’s body. He doesn’t really acknowledge them moving until his back touches the wall, and sighs of pleasure escape his lips as fingers starts running on his chest, under the jacket, stroking his nipples through the material of his shirt.

Slowly, the intense kiss quiets down, until they’re both completely out of breath. Roger leans away, lips redden, a predatory smile on his face. Crystal-clear eyes filled with desire. Freddie thinks there’s not much that beats being able to gaze into his boyfriend’s beautiful eyes from this close.

He smiles in turn. “I take that you enjoyed the show, darling?”

Roger gives him a caress on the cheek. “Absolutely. So much better than when we filmed.”

“’Better with less -ah!” A well-placed thrust cuts the rest of his words.

It’s better with less restrain indeed. _Much better._ “That day I had to watch you prance around in that outfit without being able to do anything. Can you imagine?” Roger thrusts against him again, causing another moan. “I wanted to touch you. So bad.”

Nothing new here, he tells him that after almost every concert. But Freddie doesn’t mind. He’s never tired of hearing his raspy voice, his warm breath against his skin as he mutters sensual words and filth in his ear.

“You know, you were quite the sight yourself dear.” He says, laying one hand on his cheek. “’Wish I could’ve grabbed your tie and snogged you right on the spot.”

“’Wouldn’t have refused.” Roger replies with a large smile. “At least this time, nobody’s gonna prevent me from jumping on you. And nobody else’s gonna approach you and put their fucking hands on you.”

Freddie can’t help but smile. He loves to stimulate his boyfriend’s possessive side. “Don’t be so hard on Olivia and Linda. They were only doing their jobs.”

Roger’s clear eyes darken, and Freddie’s breath gets stuck in his throat as he starts rolling a nipple between his fingers. “’Still wanted to drop them above the scene. I should’ve been the one behind you on that motorcycle. I should’ve been the one to tear your shirt apart.” He practically growls the last words.

“Well- ah- why do you think I put on this shirt?” Freddie asks with a wry smile.

Roger smiles back, and leans to give him a kiss, while his other hand briefly caresses his chiselled cheek. Their tongues quickly find each other again, and his hand travels down to his boyfriend’s crotch. The light touch of his fingers is enough to make Freddie thrust against him, and Roger feels his delicate hands curl up around his buttocks, pressing their bodies closer to get more of that delicious contact. Long live PVC and Freddie’s appreciation of clothes so tight they become a second skin.

As he starts to get out of breath, the blonde leaves his mouth to focus on his neck. He runs his lips along the soft sensitive skin, plants kisses and gives slow flicks of his tongue, causing languid sighs to escape his boyfriend’s mouth. His other hand joins the one already on his chest, now alternating between circling his nipples and rolling the tips between his fingers, and Freddie rests his head against the wall, hands gripping his hips, as moans and a few murmured curses escape his mouth.

The heat of Roger’s body, the brushing of their crotches together feel so good, but it’s clearly not enough. Let him get rid of their clothes and feel the rough skin of his fingertips on his cock, inside him-

“Rog-” He tugs at his T-shirt.

“Something’s wrong?” His boyfriend asks, leaving his neck to meet his eyes again. Isn’t he a sight, with his beautiful blue eyes and redden cheeks.

“No- ‘Want you. Out of these clothes.”

He replies with a grin. “Same for you.”

His hands travel down his torso, but Freddie grabs them before they can undo his belt. “Not here. Over the couch.”

“I like that plan.” Roger claims, his grin getting even larger.

His fingers swiftly pass against Freddie’s crotch, making him gasp, before leaning away with a self-satisfied smile. The singer pecks him on the lips before getting away from the wall and happily getting rid of his jacket. A whistle welcomes his gesture, and he flashes his boyfriend a wink on his way to the couch.

Tom and Jerry are still there, snuggled against each other. He’s not surprised. As long as they’re not too loud, the two cats don’t give a damn if he has it off with Roger in the same room. They raise their heads in interest as they spot him, and of course, he can’t resist giving his babies a caress.

Hands briefly travel up his legs, and Roger presses himself behind him. The collar of his shirt is pulled apart in one ferocious move and a well-placed thrust elicits a sound between a moan and a surprised cry from him. This time, Tom and Jerry leave the couch, startled by all these sudden noises.

A laugh of fond exasperation escapes his lips, and he turns his head around. “I leave you for _ten seconds_ and you’re already right on my arse.”

Chin resting on his shoulder, his boyfriend’s mischievous grin gets larger. “’Can’t help it. You have a very nice arse.”

Freddie gives him a tap against his buttock. “Now please darling, take your hands off and let me go behind the couch.”

Roger’s fingers leave the collar – his shirt did tear, though definitely not as much as in the video – but his hands stay on his body. He breathes and blows against his shoulder, spreading warmth through the material, and gives him a light thrust. It’s not as if it was unpleasant, but Freddie had _plans_.

“Roger…”

“What?” His hands start to stroke his chest. “‘S very tempting to dive in right there.”

Freddie smiles. “You’re insufferable.”

He frees himself from his boyfriend’s embrace and turns around. He grabs his shirt and passes his thumbs against his nipples, making him gasp quietly. Good thing they’re both sensitive there.

“I said you were going to fuck me over the back of the couch.” He whispers slowly, eyes fixed in his’. “Alright?”

“R-right.” Roger replies, visibly having trouble keeping moans from escaping his mouth.

Freddie can’t resist going on for a little longer, before taking his hands off and giving him a kiss. Roger quickly places his hands on his hips, presses their bodies against each other as his tongue slides inside his mouth, starting a series of loving and hungry kisses. It doesn’t take long before he starts caressing his chest again, hands roaming under his shirt. One of Freddie’s hands finds the edge of the couch, and he uses his other hand, laying on his boyfriend’s waist, to slowly but surely guide the two of them until his back is pressed against the wooden surface.

The rhythm of the kisses gets slower, their breath mutually running out, and he grabs Roger’s hips as the blonde continues to stroke his chest and leave a pleasant sensation on his skin. A last swirl of tongue, and Roger leans away, lips redden and lightly swollen, look darkened with desire. He runs a hand against his cheek, his other resting on his waist, steady and warm.

“Take it off.” He asks in a raspy voice, tugging at his shirt.

Freddie happily obliges, and throws the piece of clothing behind him. His eyes fixed on his boyfriend, he starts riding up his shirt, and the blonde quickly puts his arms in the air so he can remove it more easily. Their lips then meet again in a passionate kiss, and the swift passing of a hand against his crotch makes him buck forwards. The contact of their erections together is brief but electrifying. More. He needs his heat, wants to be pinned against him and feel more of that friction.

He breaks off the kiss and gently pushes Roger away, taking the time to catch his breath as they look into each other one more time.

“C’mon, dear.” He whispers, a seductive smile on his face, before turning around.

No sooner has Freddie grabbed the edge of the couch that a vigorous thrust and that sweet, sweet friction elicit a moan out of him. Roger’s fingers leave a warm trail on his torso as they travel up his chest, and he starts circling his nipples while continuing to rock against his bum, the rough material of his jeans rubbing against his pants in the best possible way.

“Ah- fuck, Rog-”

The blonde places a kiss on his shoulder, and slowly passes his lips on the length of his neck, giving a swirl of his tongue occasionally. He kisses the spot right under his ear, travels down his neck up to where the shoulder begins, and sucks up a patch of skin in his mouth. His expert fingers pinch and play with his nipples, and Freddie grits his teeth; his pants are getting awfully tight. Keeping one hand on the edge, he starts to undo his belt, and his boyfriend leaves one of his nipples to assist him in the task. The pressure on his erection finally diminishes, causing a sigh, followed by a sharp moan as he feels the burning and pleasant contact of fingers on his cock.

One hand on each side of the clothing item, the two work towards removing his pants, so glued to his skin that when they go down, his underwear go down too. Not that it’s a bad thing. A few rapid legs moves and all of this flies to the side, leaving him free and impatient for what will happen next.

Mouth still occupied with the soft skin of his neck, Roger goes back to circling one of his nipples while he takes care of his own pants. They end up on the floor in a muffled sound along with what’s left of his clothes. Between two sighs of pleasure, Freddie lets out a shaky breath as his boyfriend lays a hand on his naked hip. A light caress of his fingers, then he arches his back at the delightful pressure of his cock against his buttocks.

Flicking his thumb on the tip of his nipple, quite sensitive after all his touches, Roger rocks against him slowly. Too slowly. The sensation of each finger on his hip is exacerbated, and Freddie closes his eyes, bites the inside of his lip as he imagines them inside him, brushing just at the right spot-

“Rog-” He lets out another moan. “Get the lube. D-Drawer behind you.”

The contact of his boyfriend on his body entirely disappears, and Freddie misses his touches already. He’s eager for what’s about to come next, and hearing the distinct sound of the bottle being opened makes his excitement grow.

A hand is back on his hip, warm and gentle, and his shoulder receives a kiss. Freddie shudders as he feels fingers slick with lube pressed against his hole. Using his thumb, Roger draws circles around it for a moment, before sliding his index inside, making him moan softly.

Again, it’s good, but not enough. “C’mon Rog.”

He chuckles. “You’re always so eager.”

A second finger easily joins the first one, and Roger starts some scissoring movements, painfully unhurried. The pleasant stretching sensation makes Freddie sigh and mutter half-words, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. He feels a warm breath against the skin of his neck, lips placing kisses here and there, his boyfriend’s erection pressed against his side, hot and heavy. The hand on his hip slowly strokes his skin, and Freddie wishes his cock would get some attention too.

  
He tightens his grip on the back of the couch with his right hand, so his left hand can give him a bit of relief, but Roger quickly stops it in its tracks. “No touching.”

Freddie groans. “Then fucking touch me.”

“We’ll see about that.”

He glances at him, and catch the sight of his pretty, devilish smile. Seconds later, his cock finally receives some touches, but he barely has the time to savour them than his fingers are already gone. Then an index comes back and trails it, from the base up to the head, and his moans turns into short-breathed, higher-pitched gasps as Roger keeps his finger against the tip, where precome is dripping.

“Fuck-” He knows very well what he’s doing, the bastard. “Roger-”

The blonde pinches lightly the sensitive skin between his thumb and his index, causing a hitching breath, before leaving his cock entirely to focus back on his chest. Simultaneously, he works a third finger inside him. One of them suddenly brushes his prostate and Freddie jolts, a sharp cry escaping his mouth.

“’Love hearing you scream.” Roger’s warm breath and playful words tickle his ear.

“F’ck you-” Another gasp as he twists his fingers.

He kisses his neck, then gently nips the soft flesh around his collarbone. He starts to rock against him in a soft motion, offering him another bit of sweet friction on his burning skin. Breaths getting shorter and harsher, Freddie feels dizzy with pleasure. The sensation of his boyfriend’s fingertips rolling a nipple, his fingers inside him, opening him and moving back and forth so excruciatingly slow is too much and not enough at the same time and it’s making him crazy.

Before he has realised it, he has started to rock back against Roger, and the first sparks of a familiar heat appear in his abdomen.

“Rog- Fuck- _Please_ -”

A soft kiss is placed on his temple, covered in sweat, and his boyfriend withdraws his fingers to get the lube once again. Freddie whines at the sudden feeling of emptiness, but takes the opportunity to catch his breath. Each second that passes makes him more impatient, more sensitive to each sound, each sensation, and he doesn’t have to turn around to know that Roger’s groans behind him mean he’ll soon drown back in ecstasy.

His skin feels scorching as Roger lays a hand on his buttock, stroking it with his thumb. The head of his cock brushes against his hole, and he holds his breath.

Warm lips graze his ear. “Ready Freddie?”

He lets out a laugh, trying to keep his grip on the back of the couch firm. “Idiot.”

“Too late.” The smile in his voice is obvious. “Now I’ll say it everytime.”

Freddie doesn’t have the time to think about a response that Roger slides inside him, making him moan and arch his back. The stretching brings a pleasant feeling of burning, more and more intense as he goes forwards. The warmth, the pressure, it’s so good, so fucking good-

A hand rests on his hip, holds him gently. “’That okay?”

To say that it’s okay is one hell of an understatement. “Roger fucking Taylor-” He whispers through a shaky breath. “S-Stop your bloody questions and just _move_.”

Another hand closes around one of his nipples and plays with the tip. “”Don’t know. You’re not being very nice.”

Freddie squirms under his touch, eyes screwed shut again. His boyfriend’s way, way too good with his fingers. “Please-” He starts, before a languish sigh interrupts him. “Ah- Fuck me-”

A kiss is placed between his neck and his shoulder. “With pleasure.”

Roger moves backwards. The first thrust is enough to make Freddie scream and grip the back of the couch tight. He goes on with a regular, relatively quick rhythm and snaps his hips with strength and precision, making Freddie move along with him. He keeps one hand on his hip to steady himself, and his other hand delivers brief but electrifying flicks of fingers around his cock. A mix of gasps, moans and curses freely escapes Freddie’s lips, a bit higher-pitched every time his boyfriend hits his prostate.

The blonde breathes harshly against his shoulder, occasionally pressing his lips there and nipping his skin, as he relentlessly thrusts into him, whispering curses and half-words. Freddie’s blood buzzes in his ears, his mind is blank, his body engulfed into a deep warmth.

Is there anything else better than getting fucked by Roger?

As much as he wants this perfect moment to never end, sparks of electricity are raging inside him, and his arms and knees are straining. He knows he won’t be able to last for much longer.

“Rog- I’m gonna-”

The grip on his hip tightens, and Freddie’s breath hitches. Against his ear, Roger distinctly pronounces his name as he reaches his orgasm, and the feeling of his cock pulsing inside him, the fingers curling around his own cock elicits a harsh moan from him, white light flashing behind his eyelids.

A bit light-headed, he manages to stay on his feet, but his legs feel like jelly and his grip on the back of the couch weakens. Roger immediately notices it and passes an arm around his chest to prevent him from falling forwards.

“You’re okay Freddie?” He asks in a soft voice.

“I-” He takes a few seconds to catch his breath. “’M fine, dear.”

Roger pulls out, making him wince, and he gently strokes his hip while his other hand rests on his cheek. His smile, his beautiful blue eyes are filled with nothing but affection, and Freddie feels all warm inside as they share a sweet kiss.

On the outside though, the cold is starting to get him. His boyfriend feels him shiver under his hands, and leans away. “’Up for a shower?”

A fond smile grows on Freddie’s face. “With you Roggie, I’m up for everything.”

He raises a brow. “ _Everything_?” He repeats in a suggestive tone.

His smile changes into an exaggeratedly indignant expression. “I was trying to be romantic here!”

“My bad.” As if he was a gentleman greeting a lady, Roger takes his hand in his own and gently kisses it, before looking back at him, slightly leaning forwards. “Would you be so kind as to dance with me, Mr Mercury?”

Freddie takes his free hand to his chest. “I would be honoured, Mr Taylor.” He confesses in his most delicate voice, before withdrawing his hand. “But not when we are so dirty and naked. It would be terribly improper, don’t you think?”

He walks away from his boyfriend – whose eyes fall inevitably back on his hum – and turns around as he stands under the door frame, a bright smile on his face. He’s positively glowing and Roger’s smile grows in return. He quickly joins his side and pecks him on the lips, look fixed in his soft brown eyes, before they leave the room to get a much needed shower.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it :) Don't hesitate to leave kudos and a comment, they're always appreciated.


End file.
